Hope Liberty Freedom
by Smarvin
Summary: A brutal war has savaged the earth and ended society as we know it. Four great and oppressive nations rise up from the debris of the U.S. and Mexico. Now, our favorite boys, plus a few others, have joined a secret army to try and tear down the four nations and bring back society. No longer accepting OCs.
1. Chapter 1

Alright, I've got a new fanfic in the works and, for the first time ever, I will be using YOUR OC's for my story. So, if you want to use one of your OC's, or make a new one, here's the process:

1. Fill out the form below  
2. Choose which nation your character is coming from from the list below  
3. Fill in the information corresponding with the nation you choose  
4. Send all of this to me in a PM (review OCs will not be accepted)

UPDATE: I would prefer a few more before I begin the actual story, preferably including a male and someone from the Squid Nation.

Step One Form:

Name:

Age (16-20):

Facial Appearance:

Hair Color and Length:

Height and Weight:

Appearance:

Outfits (minimum of two):

Personality:

Family Life:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Race:

Religion:

Step Two Form:

Choose ONE of the following (names by the options tell you where that character is. For example, Stan is in the squid nation):

1. The Western Empire- Cartman, Craig, Token, Heidi, Annie

2. The Cilian States- Kenny, Butters, Timmy, Bebe, Lola

3. The Keldon Empire- Kyle, Clyde, Bradley, Wendy, Powder

4. The Squid Nation (Yes. Squids.)- Stan, Tweek, Jimmy, Esther, Milly

Step Three Form:

Fill out the form corresponding to the nation you chose in step two. Also, I know that everyone will probably want to choose soldier/ rebel, but there is a certain perk to choosing civilian that will be revealed later. Also, be creative when choosing weapons. :)

Western Empire Form:

Friends:

Enemies:

Crush:

Position (civilian or soldier):

If you chose soldier:

Preferred weapon(s):

Past Battle Injuries:

Cilian States Form:

Friends:

Enemies:

Crush:

Position (civilian or patroller):

If you chose patroller:

Preferred Weapon(s):

Keldon Empire Form:

Friends:

Enemies:

Crush:

Position (civilian or rebel):

If you chose rebel:

Preferred Weapon(s):

Past Battle Injuries:

Squid Nation Form:

Friends:

Enemies:

Crush:

Position (civilian or patroller)

If you chose patroller:

Preferred Weapon(s):

Step Four: Send to me in a PM

My Character-

Name: Joseph Pittman

Age: 17

Facial Appearance: He has brown eyes that show that he is usually on edge. He has a clear face without acne or freckles and an average sized nose. His eyebrows are dark and sometimes covered by his bangs.

Hair Color: Black

Hair Length: His hair is a few inches long but it naturally curls. He doesn't take care of his hair that often, so it is slightly unkempt.

Height: 5 Feet 8 Inches

Weight: 120 Pounds

Appearance: He is noticeably frail yet still fairly strong. His clothes are not too formal and often wrinkled. He usually looks tired but gives off an aura of determination. He has a jagged scar on his left arm and is almost always covered in scrapes and bruises. He also has been shot several times.

Outfit 1: Informal- a faded red sweatshirt and black sweatpants that are obvious signs of his family's wealth, worn down sneakers

Outfit 2: Soldier Uniform- a dark camouflage shirt and pants with the Empire's insignia on it, combat boots

Personality: Joseph is a generally nice person who strives for justice. He has great determination and motivation. He can be a leader or a follower, depending on the situation. He strives to be smart, despite that he was a bit slow in school. He holds his friends close to his heart.

Family Life: Joseph comes from a lower class family. His parents were always working and never could find time for him. He had an older sister that was put into the army and never came back. He was placed in the army at the age of 15.

Likes: running, learning, making things right, being with friends

Dislikes: the Empire, liars, death of close ones

Race: His family is of German decent, but has been American for many generations.

Religion: Catholic

Nation: Western Empire

Friends: Token, Heidi, Craig, Annie

Enemies: Cartman

Crush: Person to later be revealed :)

Position: Soldier

Preferred Weapon(s): pistol, AK-47, explosive arrows

Past Battle Injuries: shot multiple times, shrapnel injury on the left arm

I can't wait to see what you guys come up with!


	2. Chapter 1: Death of a Loved One

**Sorry for taking so long, but I've been pretty busy. Now, this chapter is just a starter, so it only has my OC. Speaking of OCs, I still need a few more, so please check out the form if you haven't already! R+R! Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Joseph's P.O.V.**

_It is a nice summer morning. The sun is just starting to come up over the mountains, and there are just a few clouds in the sky. A man and a woman are sitting together on the porch of a house in great need of repairs. They are smiling, clearly enjoying themselves. A dog is chasing a rabbit around the small, weed-filled yard._

_The two people begin to talk to each other. However, what they are saying cannot be heard. The man makes a hand gesture and the woman laughs. _

_She looks very happy, but if you were to look into her eyes, you would see that they were full of sadness._

_As they continue to talk, something_ _starts to make a noise. It's low pitched and continuous, much like a motorboat. It is quiet, but getting louder each second._

_The dog starts barking in the direction of the mountain. The man and woman look up to try and figure out what the noise is._

_It continues to get louder as something enters the horizon from behind the mountains. The couple watches as one, two, three, around twenty bombers make their way towards the small town. They start to run towards their house, but they are too late. They bombs begin to drop. There are explosions everywhere, and—_

I sit up in my cot. I am drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. It takes me a few minutes, but I finally calm myself down.

I've been having that dream for days now. Ever since news arrived that my hometown had been bombed by the Keldon Empire.

The people in my dream were my parents. They're presumed dead.

As far as I'm aware of, I'm the only in my family still alive. My only other family member, my sister Mary, left for the army when I was thirteen. She never returned.

I joined the army when I was fifteen. Now I'm seventeen. I've spent two years of my life on a battlefield that's been in stalemate for longer than I can remember.

I never wanted to join the army, but I had to. My family never really had much money, so when the Emperor's men came knocking, I did what I had to.

My regiment was stationed in the mountains near El Paso, just a few miles from both the Keldon and Cilian borders. The Rocky Mountains served as the Keldon border, and a combination of the Rio Grande and an old fence served as the Cilian border.

The fighting occurs almost daily where I am. Between Keldon ambushes and Cilian air raids, it's pretty bad. There's been dozens of times where I shouldn't have come through alive.

Of course, it doesn't help when your opponent is a factory product made for warfare. Both the Cilians and the Keldonians use them. Their armies consist of humans that… aren't quite humans. They're made in factories and only take orders from their leaders.

Anyways, it is just before dawn and the camp is beginning to wake up. People are starting to walk around and eat breakfast. I get up and start walking around the camp.

"Hey Joseph." I turn around and see Token Black smiling at me. Token is an African American eighteen year old who comes from a rich family. We tend to stay near each other because we have a lot of similarities. We're both Catholic, we both lost a sibling to the war, and we both lost our parents and homes to an air raid.

"Hey," I said back.

"Sleep well?" He asked.

"Yes," I lied. "I'm hungry. We should—" I am cut off by a large explosion in the forest. We see burning trees nearby and there is ashes floating in the air.

Everyone jumps up and grabs their weapon. I grab my AK-47 and start heading over.

As we run through the woods, we hear more explosions and heavy gunfire. We soon arrive to where the fighting is.

A large battalion of Keldonian fighters are right in front of us. But… they're not firing at us. They're not even facing us! They're fighting against someone else.

They can't see or here us at all. The captain of our company gives the order and we take them by surprise. We start firing.

Despite being surrounded on both sides, the Keldonian fighters drag out the fight for over an hour. The sun has already risen before the last shot is fired. Despite being victorious, we have over twenty casualties.

Now that we took care of the Keldonians, we need to figure out who else was fighting the Keldonians. The captain pulls out a bullhorn and begins speaking to the other group. "Come out peacefully and identify yourselves!"

A middle-aged man walks out from the woods towards us. We all raise our guns. He places his gun down and puts his hands up.

"Don't shoot!" the man shouts.

"Identify yourself first!" the captain says.

"Captain Frederick Jackson, head of the A Company, First Battalion, 22nd Regiment of the grand Western Empire." Realizing that he's on our side, our captain puts the bullhorn down and heads over to him. Frederick Jackson whistles in the direction of the forest and his company comes out from the trees as well. They appear to be far worse off than us. Many have suffered gunshot wounds during the battle.

"How many of your men are wounded?" my captain asks.

"Many."

"Well, we'll be more than willing to help out."

We arrive at the other company's camp after gathering all of the medical supplies from our own. Captain Jackson shows us to the wounded, and we set out to work.

Token and I grab some supplies and head over to a woman lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Two medics are already there, but we go to help out anyways.

"Is there anything we can do?" I ask one of the medics.

"Try and keep her calm. Talk to her," he says.

I sit down by her and look at her face. It looks familiar, but it is covered in too much blood and dirt that I can't make out who it is. I remember the medic's instructions and start talking.

"Just try and stay calm. You'll be fine."

The woman opens her eyes and looks at me. She tries talking, but is struggling to get the words out. "Jo… Joseph?" she asks quietly.  
It finally clicks. The face is familiar because I've known it my whole life. I'm talking to my dying sister!

"Mary! Yes! It's me!" I say. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. We can help you."

"N-no. It's too late for me. But, Joseph—" She starts coughing violently. Blood is coming out of her mouth as she tries to tell me something, but she can only get out a few words. "Northeast… sanctuary… justice… overthrow… avenge… me." After she says the last word, she takes her final breath. Her body goes limp. I don't need one of the medics to tell me what this means.

I finally find my sister that I've always believed to be dead and she dies in my arms.


	3. Chapter 2: Introducing the OCs

Hey everyone, sorry for the wait, but I've been VERY busy these past few w months, due to many reasons which I don't feel luck getting into. :( But I promise to do better! Next update should be in two weeks!

This chapter is just an introduction type of thing for each OC which are listed below. P.S. I'll return to my normal writing style next chapter. :)

Accepted OCs:  
Jenny-May Kritts  
Rose Monroe  
Emma Louise Clark  
Tessa Banks  
Rissa Yi  
Tony Fazio

So, without further ado, I present, Chapter 2, my longest submission on this site to date!

**Jenny-May Kritts P.O.V.**

When I was a little girl, somebody told me that life wasn't all fun and games.

I thought that the person telling me that was kidding. My early childhood was great. I laughed, I played, and I had fun. I had no reason to believe that it could all come to an end.

I can remember the summer when I turned nine. Three days after my birthday, I got the best present ever from my mother. After staying with my grandmother for two days, my mom came home with my baby brother. Ever since he was born, I have always been very close to James Kritts.

That week that started off so well ended in disaster.

The war had been going well. The Keldonian army had been pushing back the Western forces, and word on the street was that the Keldon Empire and the Cilian States were working on creating an alliance.

On the Saturday of that week, twenty Cilian representatives came up from the south into my home town of San Antonio to formally declare the alliance. There were parades and parties. This was an important event. It could change the entire course of the war.

The meeting started at noon. An hour later, sirens could be heard all across the city. My dad came home that night and told my talked to my mom for around an hour. He talked quietly because he didn't want to wakeup James. My mom listened to him with tears in her eyes.

My parents wouldn't tell me what had happened, but I caught a quick glimpse of the evening newspaper. I didn't know all of the details, but I knew enough. War had resumed with the Cilian states.

The next day, my father left. He said that he was being forced into being a member of the border patrol. He told me that he would probably be back in a few weeks after the two nations had worked out the previous day's incidents.

But the damage was already done. The two countries never worked it out.

The war continued. My dad had to stay at his post.

The next few years were hell. My mom was almost always depressed, so I did most of the caring for James. My dad was rarely allowed to visit.

When I was thirteen, my mom developed skin cancer. When she died a year later, my father was allowed to come home for a week.

After he left, it was just me and James. I did my best, but raising a five-year-old isn't easy. I was making his breakfast one day when there was a knock on the door.

Outside were two border patrol officials. They told me that my services were needed in the border patrol. I told them no, that I needed to take care of my brother. They said that it was already arranged that my neighbors would take care of him. I tried to tell them no, but they took me against my will.

I spent the next year of my life on the southern border, turning back and shooting any Cilians that I saw.

I was only allowed to go home a year later when my father was killed in action. I was sent back to the border the day after the funeral. A month later, I was shot in the leg. After a week in a hospital, I was discharged.

I went home and got James from my neighbors. I packed our things and began to head west.

I don't know why I chose that direction, but that journey defined who I am now. That journey led me to my now friends, Clyde and Powder. And it led me to Kyle, who I like to spend as much time as possible with.

And it led me to the resistance.

**Rose Monroe P.O.V.**

If there's on thing that I've learned, it's that you should be ready for change. And no matter how bad the changes are, you should learn to adjust to it.

For most of my life, I was the richest person in my hometown of Carlsbad. My dad had been a general in the war before I was born, so my family was privileged enough to get ahold of things that ordinary people can't get. Stuff like Harry Potter books, and One Direction music. I've been told that these were very common before the Great War, but they are very hard to come across nowadays.

My mother, Katherine Monroe, died in a car accident when I was ten. I don't remember her too much, but ever since then, I've had to take on a larger role in my brother Dean's life. He was two months old when she died.

My social life was pretty awesome. My friends and I had a lot of fun together. We could all trust each other, and we were always laughing.

My school was mostly for richer families, but there was one boy there that caught my attention. He came to the school in eighth grade. Apparently he came from a poor family on the north side of town. Word is that the school only took him in because he and his sister are orphans.

Most people avoided him because he wasn't "at the same level" as the rest of us. That's probably the reason why I started talking to him. Just to spite the bullies.

I sat with him at lunch one day. I learned that his name was Craig Tucker. He was a nice to me, although whenever someone insulted them, he flipped them off.

I told my friends about him, and eventually we all started to sit by him.

It wasn't too noticeable at first, but eventually my friends started to notice. Whenever I was around Craig, I would trip, or bump into things, or drop stuff. My friends would tease me about how I had a crush on him. I denied it at first, but eventually I told them the truth. I liked Craig Tucker.

The next few years were great. I was around Craig more often than not. By sophomore year in high school, I finally got enough courage to tell him how I felt.

He told me that it was obvious because of the way I acted around him. Ever since then, we've been a couple.

Junior year was when everything went downhill. One night during the February of that year, I was at a party with Craig and my friends until around midnight. After we left the party, Craig drove me home and kissed me before I got out.

My dad and brother were already asleep when I got inside. I was really tired, so I got into my pajamas and went to bed. I was just dozing off when I smelled it.

Smoke. While I was figuring out what the smell was, it began to fill the room. I jumped out of bed and ran to my door. As soon as I opened, I began coughing roughly. I fought my way through the smoke and flames to the other side of the hallway.

I entered Dean's room, picked him up, and went back into the hallway. We went down the stairs and ran out the door. From the outside, we could see the damage that the fire was doing. The entire first floor and most of the second were inflamed.

After a long night of smoke, flames, and sirens, I was told by a fireman what had happened. My dad, Derek Monroe, didn't make it.

Many high-ranking military personnel showed up at my father's funeral. Even the Emperor was there. But I really didn't even acknowledge them. My mind was in many different places.

A few weeks later, I returned to school. But it wasn't the same. People treated me differently now. Even the people who used to be my friends bullied me.

The only two people who stayed on my side were Craig Tucker and my best friend, Heidi Turner.

One day, I told them my plan. I told them that my life in Carlsbad was over. I had nowhere to be here. I had to go somewhere else. I just had to leave.

Believe it or not, they both said that they would join me. So it was with Craig, Heidi, and Dean that I made my way over to a nearby town.

I thought that the fire would be the biggest change in my life. But it was in Las Puertas* where my life was sent in a whole new direction.

**Emma Louise Clark P.O.V.**

The best way to learn about the world is to get out there and figure it out yourself.  
Ever since I was little, I've been doing this. During the day, I was prim and proper. Every wrinkle eliminated, every stain exterminated. As the daughter of two important Cilian politicians, the eyes of a nation were always on me and my family. During the day, I always had to be perfect. Nothing could be out of place.

But at night, a transformation would take place. I would sneak out of the heavily guarded mansion, with a journal and pen in hand. No makeup, no dresses, no heels. Taking their place were a grey jacket, red t-shirt, black pants, and boots.

I'd roam the streets of my town, writing down everything and anything. Pages and pages of stuff just written down on a whim. I would spend hours out there, just writing. Then, around one o'clock, I'd sneak back into my house, hide my works, and go to sleep. The next day, the process would continue. Perfection in the eye of the public. The perfect family.

Then at night, I hit the streets.

This went on for days. And weeks. And months. And years.

On the rare occasion where I didn't need to be somewhere, I was taken care of by the maid, Darla. She schooled me, made my meals, and played with me. She was like the sister that I never had.

On the even rarer occasion where my parents didn't need to be somewhere, my mom took over where Darla had left off while my dad sat to the side, always giving me a cold shoulder. My dad never really cared for me, but my mom more than made up for it. She was always the person that I looked up to, the person that I wanted to be.

Both of my parents had high positions in the Cilian government. My dad's job always came first. His job was more important than me.

My mom, however, valued me more. She often mentioned how she wanted to just quit her job and spend more time with me.

When I was eight, my mother asked if she could resign. The government rejected her request. They made her continue to do the job that she hated.

The government must have thought that she would try to run from her job, so they set out a project for her and several others to complete. It took two years, and she was rarely able to spend time with me.

Despite wanting to leave her job, she did a good job with the tasks given to her. This got the government's attention. They chose her, along with nineteen others, to do something that would be a great honor. She tried to decline, but they forced her to go.

So, when I was ten, my mother, along with nineteen others, went North to San Antonio in the June of that year.

During the meeting in San Antonio, the Keldonian resistance attacked. Everything went south from there. Everyone there, both Keldonian and Cilian, were taken hostage. The negotiations didn't go well. Shots were fired. My mother, along with twelve of the other representatives, didn't survive.

After the funeral, things started to change. I mourned for my mom daily. I lost my faith and quit attending church services. I fought with my dad for several years for the right to be able to no longer take part in public appearances with him. But when I finally won that argument, he took it upon himself to fire Darla.

Without public appearances to go to or Darla to be with me, I was able to actually go to a regular school. Unfortunately, most people saw me as a spoiled, self-centered bitch. I eventually learned to ignore them.

I became best friends with a girl named Bebe Stevens. She too had lost her mother in the disastrous hostage situation. She too had a father that disliked her. I also befriended two boys; Butters, a boy with cruel parents, and Timmy, a crippled orphan.

If my father ever learned what kind of friends I had, he would not be happy.

I did make a few enemies as well, the most notable being a girl named Lola. She was an orphan, so Butters's parents had adopted her. She would always go out of her way to put us down. I often wished that a horrible accident would befall upon her.

My relationship with my father remained stable for the next few years. However, one morning, a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday, I went downstairs to the kitchen to get a drink of water. When I got there, however, I saw my dad sitting with a woman at the counter.

"Who is this?" I had asked.

"Doesn't matter."

"Tell me. Who the hell is this?"

He stood up and stared at me. "Fine, if you want to know so god damn badly, this is Sarah McClellan, my, ah, mistress of twelve years and your soon to be stepmother."

"Wha- this is how you honor Mom's memory? Marrying someone who you had been cheating with for four years before she died? What kind of scum are you?" I had shouted.

He grabbed me by the neck and slammed me against the wall.

"I couldn't give two f•••s about your mom's memory, just like how I never gave two f•••s about her or you! And you don't talk to me like that! Get the hell out of here, and don't return!"

He let go my throat just before I lost consciousness. He shoved me headfirst into the table and I stumbled across the room. As I was walking out the door, he gave me one last SMACK across the face. I grabbed the doorframe to regain my balance, but he slammed the door shut. My left had was still on the frame. I could feel bones breaking.

He opened the door to free my hand, but then proceeded to shove me to the concrete before finally closing and locking the door.

I had nowhere to go, so I just started limping in one direction. I somehow ended up at the park. I slowly made my way to the park bench right next to the pond.

I sat down. I had a broken hand, bloody nose, skinned knees, a concussion, and scratches and bruises all over. I had nowhere to live. The only person who ever loved me had been dead for eight years. My father had never respected or loved her. He hated my guts. I had nothing.

The sun was high in the sky. I was sweating heavily, and the heat index was over 115°. I was hungry. I was thirsty. After the trip to the park, I had little energy.

There was nothing left for me. Using my last bit of energy, I brought my bloody, beaten body to the shore of the pond. I looked into the water. I was about to be with my mother once more.

Just as I was about to go in, a boy who, despite the temperatures was wearing an orange parka, came over to me. I looked up at him as he held out his hand to me.

I took it.

**Tessa Banks P.O.V.**

You always need to be ready for just about anything. Anything can happen, and if you're caught off guard, you can be screwed.

For example, when I was young, back when we had enough many to do this type of thing, my family went to a water park. My brother, who was two years older than me, snuck up behind me and pushed me under the surface. I was caught off guard and couldn't do anything. I almost drowned. Meanwhile, nobody pointed the finger of blame at my brother.

You always have to be ready for things like that to happen, and you need to learn from them when they do. After that experience, I made as little contact with water as possible. I developed paranoia, which is actually very helpful when it comes to personal safety.

I made myself appear to be the innocent, shy girl. On the inside, however, I am different. I am always alert and aware. I can detect danger. And, when need be, I can beat the living crap out of anyone.

Despite being like this, I did well in school. However, I did have some issues. Most people were a friend of mine, but when someone got on my nerves, I made sure that they paid the price. Unfortunately, I sometimes reacted a bit too quickly. When I was fourteen, this one boy kept saying my name over and over again. I tried ignoring him, but he just kept saying my name. After several minutes of this, I turned and gave him a good punch across the face.

It turned out that I had dropped something and he was trying to get my attention.

Once I learned the truth, I apologized and invited him and his best friend, Jimmy Valmer, into my inner group of friends. His name was Rissa Yi.

Soon, our two groups were just about inseparable. Me, Rissa, Jimmy, and my other friends Stan Marsh, Tweek Tweak, Esther, and Milly were always with each other. Our little group was always a bundle of laughs.

One night, when I was fifteen, I woke up in the middle of the night to a scream. My brother wasn't home, so it couldn't be him. I got out of bed and went into the hallway.

I heard two voices coming from my parents' room. And they weren't my parents' voices. I looked inside the room.

There were two men in there, each holding bloody knives. I ran away from the room.

I returned twenty seconds later with a baseball bat. I hit one of them over the head.

He went down immediately. The other turned towards me.

He grinned sinisterly and began advancing towards me. I swung, and he dodged. He continued to get closer. I swung again. He dodged again and grabbed the bat from me. He tossed it aside and raised the knife. I used the opportunity to give him a good roundhouse kick. He went down, but was still conscious.

I walked towards him and looked down. He was in a lot of pain, and he wouldn't be conscious for long. I turned around to leave the room.

Using his last bit of energy, he lunged.

It wasn't a powerful lunge, but he did get himself far enough to bring the knife across my back.

The police soon arrived. The two men were taken away. My mother was pronounced dead right away. My father died two hours later in the hospital. The cut on my back wasn't too serious, but there is still a long scar there.

My parents were buried side by side. The two men were charged with murder, and after everything was all said and done, I was left in the care of my seventeen-year-old brother.

The next two years were horrible. My brother was always making me do all of the housework and cooking while he would just hang out with friends. If I didn't do something that he asked, he slapped me.

Meanwhile, I never told any of my friends about my brother. I just didn't want them to be worrying about me.

Well, I did tell one person. Tweek Tweak. We were both alike. My brother was abusive, as were his parents.

Because neither of us had a good family life, we started spending more and more time together. Eventually, we would be with each other from the time school ends until the we finished watching the sunset from the tree in the field near my house.

Of course, when I got home, my brother would be pissed. He would demand to know where I had been. I would never tell him. One time, he tried to forcefully get the information out of me.

He doesn't like to talk about what happened.

Eventually, he just gave up on trying to figure out where I'd been.

Meanwhile, the crime rate in our city continued to rise. Esther and Stan's parents were killed in the time span of three months. Milly's parents were arrested for armed robbery and put in jail. Hardly anyone in the town made it through the crime spike unaffected.

The town was becoming a far more dangerous place. Everyone was hoping that the government would do something about it, but word on the street was that there were many more towns like ours out there that the government was just ignoring.

We knew that something had to be done. So we made a plan.

**Rissa Yi P.O.V.**

When you grow up spending your time in a pub that your parents own, you tend to learn a few things.

For example, I learned that in my hometown of Charleston, there is a lot of anti- Chinese feelings. Most people hated my mother for being Chinese and they hated my father for marrying a Chinese woman.

And they hated me for being half Chinese.

And when you grow up being hated by everyone, you become a cold person.

And when you're a cold person, nobody will ever want to be friends with you.

So that's how the first twelve years of my life were. Everyone hated me and everyone stayed away from me.

But there was one boy, a crippled boy named Jimmy Valmer. He was also like me, in the way that everyone stayed away from him. Being the rejects, we both joined forces and became bet friends.

We were always really close to each other, and we always helped each other. I helped him with his stutter, and he helped me become less cold-hearted. Because of what we did, his speech became far better, and I became a far better person.

When I was fourteen, being the nice Rissa that Jimmy had helped me became, I picked up a book that a girl had dropped in the hallway at school and tried to give it to her. She responded by giving me a broken nose.

When she learned what I was trying to do later on, she apologized and invited Jimmy and I into her group of friends.

For the first year or so, our group of friends were always in perfect harmony with each other. Me, Jimmy, Stan Marsh, Esther, Milly, Tweek Tweak, and the girl who punched me were always laughing and having fun together. We were inseparable. But then things took a turn for the worse.

The girl who punched me, Tessa Banks, was orphaned by two men one night. Her older brother had to take care of her and, although she never said anything aloud, I was pretty sure that she wasn't being treated too well by him.

The two men that killed her parents were sent to some prison down south, and nobody in our town ever learned their names. Not even Tessa.

But I knew who they were. It was my father and one of his friends. They were drunk and fulfilling their end of a bet made between them and some of my dad's other friends.

Tessa's parents were killed for 800 dollars, and she didn't even know. She once asked what happened to my father. I lied and said that he left my family and moved to a nearby town.

Meanwhile, another girl in our group of friends, Milly, had her parents arrested for attempting to rob a bank. She was an only child and had to support herself.  
Tweek Tweak, a boy who was also in our group, was being abused by his parents, who were (wrongfully) blaming him for the death of his baby sister.

Esther's parents were mugged and killed one night when we were all fifteen. She was going to be sent to an orphanage sixty miles away, but Stan Marsh's family found room in the hearts and home to adopt her at the last minute.

Unfortunately for the two of them, Stan's parents were killed by thieves two months later.

Despite what was happening, we stuck together, and some stronger relationships started to form within our group. Tweek and Tessa were the first two in our group to be labeled a couple. Esther connected with Stan while helping him overcome his depression after the death of his parents. Their relationship soon became the talk of the school.

I was also in a relationship with someone in the group, but we wanted to keep it a secret. Unfortunately, Stan figured us out. He kept it a secret, but from that moment on, he never talked to us again.

Around my seventeenth birthday, my mother was shot and killed by a member of an anti-Chinese group.

This was the final straw for our group. Charleston was becoming far too dangerous, so we decided that it was timed to go. In early June, the seven of us, each with a bag of our belongings, met at the school in the middle of the night.

We began heading west, leaving behind our childhoods and remnants of families.

**Tony Fazio P.O.V.**

Sometimes, criminals are the best role models.

If you grow up in foster care in Brooklyn like I did, you'll find out that there isn't much that you can do. For a young child, it wasn't safe to go outside, so I spent a lot of my childhood inside.

And when you're inside most of the time, what is there to do?

Answer: watch movies. As a child, I watched hundreds of movies. I watched all sorts of movies, but there was one type that I enjoyed the most.

I loved crime movies. More specifically, I loved Mafia movies. I don't know why I like them so much, but something about how anyone could be a part of it without you even knowing just fascinated me. And because I was half Italian, I always pictured myself being a part of it.

With that dream in mind, I learned how to fight. I learned how to use knives and how to lie. I also began to show reluctancy towards following the law.

Unfortunately, the law that I disliked eventually caught up to me. When I was fifteen, I was caught robbing a bank. When I was asked why I did it, I answered, "For fun."

I was given a choice for my punishment. I could either be sent to a prison for forty years, or I could be sent to the Western Empire to serve in the army for ten years.

I chose the latter.

After the long and dangerous trip from the Squid Nation through the Keldon Empire and into the Western Empire, I was finally delivered to the army headquarters in a city called Los Angeles.

I was placed in a regiment right next to the Keldonian border. I was given a choice for what weapon I wanted to fight with. I chose a lupara, the sawed-off shotgun that I'd seen in so many of those Mafia movies.

Despite the fact that we were fighting on a daily basis, I somehow survived my first three years. I'd never been a social person, but I did make one "friend".

His name was Eric Cartman. He was also good at fighting and had interests in organized crime. With each other's help, we survived countless battles.

When I was eighteen, our regiment got caught up in a skirmish with a Keldonian battalion at least double my company's size. We would have all been slaughtered if another company hadn't come from behind the battalion and taken them out.

During the battle, a bullet had nicked my shoulder, but I was otherwise fine.

I spent the rest of that afternoon helping the wounded, because even though the other company had extended a helping hand, we still needed a lot of aid. I ended up working with an African boy and a boy with tears in his eyes.

By the end of the day, I'd learned why the boy was crying- his long-lost sister, who was in my company, was among the dead. Although I found the African boy, Token, annoying, I felt genuinely bad for the other boy, Joseph. I told him that if he needed anything, I could help him out.

He told me that he needed people to come with him.

Go with him where, I had asked.

He said that his sister had said something before she had died. She had said something about going northeast, so that's what Joseph planned to do.

Where northeast, I asked him.

He didn't know where, but he had for him in the army, so he and Token were planning on deserting and just going in that general direction, and that it would be better if a few more people came along.

I had no reason to stay in the army either, so I told him that I could come. Later that night, I asked Cartman if he wanted to join us, and he decided that he would.

The next day, we all met up with each other at the crack of dawn and snuck out of our camps. We made our way through the woods and headed onwards, into the unknown.

*Las Puertas is a madeup town that is about 50 miles NE of Carlsbad.

AN: There it is! I apologize if it wasn't overly fantastic, but I'm not used to this writing style. I'll be returning to my normal style next chapter. R+R, Smarv out!


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